


The Night Before the Race to the Finish Line

by uaigneach



Series: Some of Us Are Human [3]
Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Demon Deals, Demons, Gen, Hurt, Hurt Stiles, Interlude, Mentions of Myth & Folklore, Stiles-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-11-05 16:11:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11016918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uaigneach/pseuds/uaigneach
Summary: He was going to die and go to hell with no way out of this arrangement.He let out a breath.





	The Night Before the Race to the Finish Line

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little drabble in between part 1 and part 2 of this series

Stiles closed the door to his room before sitting down on his bed quietly. He had just gotten back from dropping off Allison at Chris Argent’s house. The rest of the pack was there – having been notified by Stiles upon the successfulness of the deal. The pack had been overjoyed at Allison’s mysterious return and had immediately decided to party.

Stiles had chosen to go home before the party was moved to the Argent house.

His father was working another double shift, and wouldn’t be home for a while. He hadn’t been home for more than 5 hours (those 5 hours always being when Stiles was out of the house) in a long time, and Stiles really didn’t know when that particular trend would end. He knew that his dad was safe; Melissa had told him that she would look after him. But he just couldn’t find it in himself to break the silence that had fallen over the house. None of the lights were on and he was utterly alone.

There were no other noises in the house save himself, and he didn’t want to wreck that. It was rather odd though. He felt numb. He sat stiffly on his bed and just stared, trying to digest everything that had happened in the last few hours. In the last few months really. He stared blankly at the mess that was his room. It was a mess and that really wasn’t surprising. There were papers just strewn all over the floor and books opened at random pages were stacked on each other in disarray on his desk. His laptop was open, the soft glow being the only thing other than the moonlight to illuminate his room. The closet door were closed and there was a pile of dirty clothes beside his open dresser that was just as disorganized as the clothes on the ground.

It would be a normal teen’s room, had the books not been occult related. When had his life gone to hell? Was it when he’d been possessed or when he was kidnapped and almost killed hundreds of times? Was it when Scott had been bitten by a rogue werewolf or when his mother had been lost to frontotemporal dementia? He didn’t know. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know.

He got up and walked towards his desk slowly. Then in a fit of rage he swept his arm across the stacks of books, sending them flying as he let out a snarl of rage. He gripped his head as he let out a sob before collapsing on the floor as some of the loose-leaf papers fluttered down to the ground. They were swept by the breeze from his open window, creating an even bigger mess than before. He buried his head in his hands as he allowed everything to catch up with him.

He got lost in the memories of death and pain for a moment before snapping back to reality. No. He wasn’t going to torture himself with that. He let out a shaky laugh as tears began to drip down his face. At first he didn’t understand why. He wasn’t sad. He was happy that Allison was alive again and now he’ll be accepted into the pack.

 

Right?

 

That’s it isn’t it? He was happy now that Allison was back and he had his friends once more. He would have people who cared about him again. Things would go back to normal.

But then… what happens when it doesn’t?

He was beginning to full out sob as he curled up on the floor while he puzzled over why. Why was he crying? He was… sad? No, he was tired. Not in the way that a couple hours of sleep could solve – although a couple hours or days of sleep wouldn’t hurt. He was tired in the way where if he died in the next 5 seconds, he wouldn’t really be all that bothered. Sure there was things for him to do, people who would miss him, but it wasn’t like it would be all that bad to just… disappear.

He was going to die in 10 years.

It all boiled down to that simple fact. Maybe tomorrow, he’d be filled with some righteous idea to make the most of what time he had left. But right now? All he wants to do is cry. He deserves this. He deserves this time to grieve. He’s grieving the future that he’s lost because no one else can know. When he dies, he’s going to hell for eternal torment and there’s nothing he can do about that. It’s a done deal. There’s no saving him now.

He was going to die and go to hell with no way out of this arrangement.

He let out a breath.

Then he sat up and wiped his face. He slowly began to gather the papers that were strewn across the floor of his bedroom. His face was completely blank as he placed all of the research on demons in neat piles on his desk, closing his computer gently. Then he turned and took off his jeans, getting ready for bed. He curled up under the thick heavy comforter on his bed and lay awake; staring at the wall for hours.

Tomorrow the world would be different but he would be the same. There would also be a time limit that anyone who know what to look for would be able to see. He closed his eyes and tried to get some sleep.

So much to do and so little time left.


End file.
